


Public Partners, Private Lives

by Chichaco



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3506504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chichaco/pseuds/Chichaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU--Life in a midsized city police department, fighting crime, and building romances, we meet different couples and learn their public and private backstories while they make their town a safer place to live.</p><p> </p><p>Own any of these characters I do not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you are looking for detailed sexual descriptions, this story is not for you. I wanted to go more for the romance, the grand gestures, the funny and memorable moments in life. There are a few hints of what's going on under the sheets, but nothing graphic. Also, I pretty much have the story finished except for my obsessive tweaking, so if you do like it, I will have it up in it's entirety before the end of the month. I deeply appreciate comments so please let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

 

“All right, move along, don’t block the sidewalk,” Lt. Emma Swan called to the crowd milling around the sidewalk as she marched towards the apartment building, where Robin Locksley stood waiting for her and her partner Killian Jones to arrive. Her badge was clipped to her belt and the sun hitting it gave off a flash of light on an otherwise dreary day. “What do you have, detective?” she asked the larger man as they met on the steps. “A meth lab, Lieutenant,” Robin answered gravely, as he led them up to the door, “and one of the biggest we’ve found—professional grade. The lab boys are dismantling it right now, and packaging up evidence.” The three of them ducked inside the building. “A lot of fingerprints, so it’s a good start,” he added.

 

When they walked back outside a half hour later, the afternoon sidewalk was still filled with the curious; passersby, the neighbors, and 4 or 5 men who looked like they might have been customers at the now-closed drug house. Ragged and dirty, they were the ones who caught Emma’s eye, and she led Killian and Robin over to the men, who were flopped on a stairwell that led to an empty basement apartment. “Hello, boys,” she called as she eyed them. Many were either asleep or stoned—she wondered if any were dead-- but a few glared up at her. 

 

“Piss off!” one of them spat on the ground near her foot. She turned her attention to him. He was scrawny, and looked like a homeless, drugged out vagrant, wearing a battered knit hat, a plain gray jacket with rips in both sleeves, and a ratty sweat-stained shirt underneath. His jeans were also ripped and tattered, and his shoes were falling apart. His face looked gray and pasty and covered with stubble, and she would have been hard pressed to guess his age. 

 

“Okay, we’ll start with you.” She answered him with a slight grimace, her hands on her hips. She could smell the stale odor of alcohol rising from the entire group. She glared down at him, and he rolled his eyes at her, and rubbed his nose with the back of his filthy hand.

 

“Start wif me what?” He demanded, and the other men around him snickered. He grinned at them, encouraged, and swung back around to her. “You see anything?” she continued, her hands on her hips. “I didn’t see nuffing!” he shot back, swaying to his feet. The others laughed out loud, and a couple more stood up with him, leering at the detectives. “Nuffing,” he continued, grinning at his friends, “except some dumbass cops askin’ dumbass questions!” He and the other two leaned against each other, laughing until one of them fell down the steps with a thump.

 

“What’s your name?” Robin spat out, pulling himself up to his full height and stepping right into the shorter man’s face. “None o’ your damn business, pig!” The man stepped away from his pal and leaned into Robin’s face, swaying a little. “Even if I did know anythin’, I wouldn’t tell shit like you!” He spat again, narrowly missing Robin’s face. One of his friends behind him laughed louder, while the other sat down suddenly on the first step and looked like he might vomit any minute.

 

“Okay, that’s enough.” Robin grabbed the man, and spun him around. “Drunk and disorderly, for starters.” “Lemme go!” The man cursed and struggled against the larger detective, who pulled his arms firmly behind his back and handcuffed him. Robin grabbed the man’s filthy coat collar and jerked his head back, twisting his arms up. “And believe me, you’ll tell us anything we want to know.” “’Ey, yer breakin’ my arm!” He yelped, and tried vainly to escape. One of the men in the stairwell backed off, not in the least interested in spending a night in a holding cell. But two others stumbled up the steps and grabbed for Robin, drunkenly hoping to free their friend. Killian and Emma jumped into the fray, and were immediately joined by uniformed cops who had been standing watch at the crime scene.

 

Kicking and shouting, the first man continued to struggle against Robin, but the big detective had an iron grip, and threw him roughly into the back seat of the squad car. Soon two more bums joined him, all three jeering, cursing, and kicking. A uniformed cop slid behind the wheel, and Emma leaned into the driver’s side window. “Take them down to HQ,” she instructed, “I want to question all three of them.” 

 

As the car drove off, Emma called to her fellow detectives. “Let’s go,” she told them, “we can process all this back at the station.” Killian slid behind the wheel of their unmarked car, and Emma jumped into the passenger seat, while Robin headed back to his own vehicle.

 

Upon arrival at the station, the three bums were brought up from the holding cell and handcuffed to chairs in the main precinct office, chairs that faced three desks in a row. Killian began to question one, Robin took the second, and Emma sat down at the desk next to the scrawny man Robin had first arrested, and eyed him sternly. “Name,” she ordered. 

 

“Kiss off, bitch,” he replied, and glared at her. She heard a snicker from the bum in the next seat.

 

Her eyes widened. “Really? You want to do this the hard way, you say?” she kept her composure as she lay her pen down on the desk. 

 

The chief’s secretary, Ruby Lucas, happened at that moment to walk past them, and the bum rolled his eyes at her. Her long auburn hair trailed down her shoulders like a waterfall in the sunlight, and her dress fit her curves like her own skin. Her legs looked even longer with the stiletto heels she glided in. She moved like royalty and she knew it. 

 

The tattered man immediately took notice. “Hey, sweetheart, you wanna ask me a question?” he called to her, “Cause I got an answer for you,” he leered as he leaned over backwards to watch her disappear. Both of the other vagrants laughed at him. Ruby pursed her lips, her crimson lipstick gleaming, and kept walking, although she seemed to slow down just a bit, as if to show the entire room something no one there would ever get to touch. 

 

Emma reached over and grabbed his collar. “Okay, we’re going to continue this in private.” She unlocked the cuff that held him to the chair and reattached it to his wrist. “Sgt. Jones, you’re with me,” she called as she jerked the man out of the chair and half dragged him back to the detective’s office in the rear. Although he struggled and cursed even more, she held him tightly, shoved him into the room, and Killian slammed the door behind them.

 

Once inside, Emma quickly uncuffed him, and the man sat down in one of the chairs, taking a deep breath. Emma grabbed another chair, and Killian pulled a third one up to the desk. “What do you have for us, Will?” she asked him.

 

The bum took off his hat and stuffed it in his pocket. “First, let me say I don’t appreciate getting roughed up like that,” he complained good naturedly. Killian smiled, “You don’t want the neighborhood to know you’re an undercover cop, do you?” Will sighed, “Yeah, but I think Rob enjoyed cuffing me and stuffing me into the squad car just a little too much.” 

 

“He’s YOUR partner, you can complain about it to him later, “Emma interrupted, “but right now I need your report.”

 

Detective William Scarlet sat up straighter, all business. “Two guys were regulars in the apartment, Greg Mandel and Tam Peters. They carried a lot of boxes and equipment inside over a two week period. Then they pretty much had a steady stream of people going in and out.” “Buyers?” Emma asked. “More like sellers,” Will replied. “They were taking out more than they could have used themselves, and I followed them a few times. They headed uptown, then split up, covering a lot of ground. They had to be doin’ some distributing in different neighborhoods.” Killian had been busy at the computer. “Mandel and Peters both have rap sheets,” he confirmed. “But the last time we nailed them, they were working for Andre Gold.” 

 

They all sat in silence for a few seconds as that name took root in their minds. Gold was a big fish in town, and had beaten the rap so many times people half-believed he was magical.

 

Emma stared hard at the young detective sitting in front of her. She knew he was reckless, and took chances others on her staff, older and more cautious, would not necessarily take. “You followed them? You sure they didn’t make you?” Will grinned. “Hey,” he replied casually, “I’m a shadow on the street.” “Yeah, well if Gold’s involved,” Killian advised, “you better be less than a shadow.”

 

Emma looked at Killian. “Gold’s the one I want, he’s the one who’s behind this. I’d bet my pension on it.” Her voice was controlled anger. Will slid down in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Well,” he answered, “You ain’t gonna strike Gold at the dump you were at this morning, cuz he wouldn’t be caught dead in that crummy part of town.” “So we’ll move our operation to him,” Emma decided. “I’ll talk to Captain Nolan right away.” She went out the door they had all come in.

 

Killian looked up from his computer screen. “David will definitely approve this, so I guess you’ll be going back to the streets,” he commented. Will pulled his hat out from his pocket and flicked away an imaginary speck of dust. “I guess so,” he confirmed with a grin, “You know how I love rollin’ around in the gutter.” Killian shot him a severe look. “Just make sure you aren’t rollin’ around with a slug in you,” Killian returned.

 

Will stood up. “Aw, don’t worry about me,” he laughed. “I’m havin’ too much fun out there!” He tossed his hat in the air a few times, catching it on one finger and flipping it back up. Killian rose and walked over to him. “Too much fun,” he answered, “means too many risks.” He reached out suddenly and grabbed the hat in midair and slapped it gently into Will’s chest for effect. “You know what she would say if she realized you didn’t have your armored vest on.” 

 

Will shook his head, “Yeah, and the minute some punk realizes I’m wearing police issue, I’m done—on a slab.” He tossed his hat up again. “If you want to catch the bad guys, you gotta take some risks.” He looked slyly up at Killian, “Besides, you and Robin were the ones who taught me how to take risks in the first place.” Killian didn’t rise to the bait. “Robin and I,” he emphasized as his finger pushed against Will’s shoulder, “knew when to take risks, and when to avoid them. Make sure you do the same.”

 

Emma returned. “I caught David just as he was leaving,” she grinned. “He was in a hurry to get home to Mary Margaret. You know how those two are. Anyway, he approved everything, and we’ve got the okay to move the operation north.” She collected the paperwork spread on the desk in front of them, and looked up at her undercover officer. “I’ll let Robin know about this, so you two can keep in touch. And Will,” she gestured at his clothes, “you’ll need something different,” “New rags, got it,” he grinned at her. “I want to get started on this immediately,” she continued. “Then I’ll be on my way,” Will stood up and stretched, “see you later.” “And touch base with your partner,” she called as he headed towards a door on the opposite side of the room.

 

“I worry about him,” Emma remarked to Killian as they watched Will slip out a rear door. Killian shook his head, “Were we ever that young?” Emma laughed humorlessly; she knew they’d both skated on the same thin ice that Will Scarlet seemed to enjoy so much. “He gets into this too deeply,” she sighed. “Yeah,” Killian agreed, “he needs to have a life--get laid once in a while.” Emma laughed. “I think he’s the only one on the squad not getting any,” Killian added with a smirk, and as the door closed, he pulled Emma to him and kissed her. “Ooooh,” she moaned softly into his open mouth, “I may need my handcuffs tonight.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First up, we meet David and Mary Margaret, whose marriage has stood the test of time and career.

Captain David Nolan was dead tired when he got home that night. He unlocked the door to their apartment, and was surprised to realize that his wife was there already and waiting for him. Usually Mary Margaret was the one stuck late at the office, not him. But tonight she was in the kitchen humming, and, he realized as the tantalizing aromas enticed him, making spaghetti for dinner. He tossed his briefcase onto the sofa and followed his nose. 

 

When he got to the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway to watch her. She was one of the best police officers ever to graduate from the academy, top of her class, no nonsense, and dedicated to the community. But she didn’t look like the Chief of Internal Affairs right now, he thought with a smile. Dressed in a pair of his boxers and a thin camisole, she was stirring the sauce while the spaghetti roiled in the pot, and the sight of her, standing there as the steam rose up around her, coaxing her hair into curls, awakened something deep inside him. It always happened; every time he saw her was like the first time, even though they had been married for years. His heart seemed to miss a beat, and he forgot how to breathe for just a moment. He felt flushed, as if he was running a never-ending fever, which he was—a fever for her.

 

They had met for the first time at the police academy. She was a new recruit and he was a hard-nosed instructor of physical training. He took his job very seriously; he weeded out those who could not stand up to the job. An officer not able to defend himself with his bare hands if necessary was not an officer he wanted to put out on the street. 

 

The first day of training, he had paid little attention to the short haired woman in academy issued sweats that turned her petite body into a gray lump. She thought he was intimidating, especially the way he shouted at the recruits as they ran, did pushups, and lifted weights. But she had always wanted to be a police offer, to protect and serve her fellow people, and she wasn’t going to let anyone scare her away.

 

“Blanchard!” his growl echoed through the gym an hour into the third day, as the recruits were lined up, panting after 20 laps, 30 pushups, and enough weight lifting to make their arms feel like cement. It was proving to be the regular morning warm up. Mary Margaret could have sworn the other cadets sidled away from her as if his voice calling her name might somehow trap them into his field of vision. “Sir!” she responded and stepped forward smartly. She was one of only 2 females in this particular class, and the other woman was built like an Amazon warrior. 

 

“You’re going to help me demonstrate how to escape from a choke hold, recruit.” He motioned her forward onto the mat. She stepped up next to him, the first time she’d been this close to her instructor. “You never know,” he continued his lecture, “when you may be attacked. You have to be constantly vigilant.” Suddenly, without warning, he seized her from behind, and wrapped his arm around her throat. “What can you do if this happens to you?” he asked the class, pretty much ignoring the slight figure he held fast. Mary Margaret leaned back, bent her knees slightly, and shoved her right foot between his feet. Then lunging forward, she held onto his arm, bent down slightly, and jerked him off his feet, tossing him over her shoulder while she held on to his wrist. 

 

Dazed, he stared up at her from the floor. “Where—where’d you learn that?” he stammered. Mary Margaret let go immediately. “Sorry, sir,” she apologized, “it was just instinct. I’ve trained in judo since I was 6 years old.” “Get back in line,” he growled, watching her as she quickly returned to the class of open-mouthed recruits. That had never happened to him in all his time as an instructor. This was one for the books. He decided to keep an eye on this recruit.

 

Weeks later, after graduation, David approached her. “Officer Blanchard,” he’d commented, noticing suddenly how nicely her new uniform fit her, “congratulations.” She smiled, and his heart miss-fired. “Thank you, sir.” “I understand you’ve been assigned to the South Main station,” he continued. “Yes, sir,” she noticed how blue his eyes were up close like this. 

 

“Well, I’ve accepted an assignment there too,” he informed her, “so I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” Her smile seemed to shoot into his heart. “I’m glad to hear it, sir,” she replied, “I look forward to working with you.”

 

The memories of that first encounter, so long ago, was still as fresh in his heart as if her smile had engraved it there permanently. He watched her from the doorway for a moment more, then came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders for a gentle massage. She continued stirring the spaghetti as he lowered his head to caress her gently on her neck with his lips. He knew she was smiling. He fought the urge to skip the meal and just grab her and carry her to their bedroom. She had this effect on him every time; he would forget everything around him and enter a universe that contained only the two of them. 

 

“Whoever ever you are,” she teased, her back still to him, “you should know my husband is a very jealous police captain who carries a sidearm at all times.” She put down her spoon, turned slowly around, and pulled his face down to hers. ‘Maybe they wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom,’ he thought, as he gazed down at her, ‘It’s not like it hadn’t happened before.’ 

 

He kissed her deeply, tasting her sweetness; every kiss with her was like the first kiss, like a fine cabernet, like fireworks, like leaping off a cliff into a rushing torrent of water. “Aren’t you hungry?” she asked softly, licking his lower lip and cupping his cheek in her hand. He reached around her and turned off the stove burners with one hand, never letting go of her. “I’m hungry for something else,” he purred, as he swept her up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom. They collapsed on the bed, and he immediately fell on top of her, again tasting her lips, her cheeks, her neck. She moaned, and shrugged off her blouse, then began pulling at his belt. As her breasts were freed from the fabric, his lips fell first to worship one, then the other, and she moaned again. 

 

Afterwards, as usual, they ended up having dinner in bed. And as usual, when that happened, they ended up eating from each other’s plates and feeding each other. Finally, they settled back on the pillows, a half-empty bottle of wine on the nightstand, and entwined themselves into each other’s arms. They’d been married forever, but it seemed like only a moment. Mary Margaret took a sip of the pinot grigio and snuggled up against David’s bare chest. “You know,” she murmured, “no matter what kind of day I have, this is always the best way to end it—in bed with you.” She reached back to put her glass down, then caressed his face. “This is the only way to end it,” he agreed, his free hand roaming her perfect form. 

 

She giggled at his tickling touch. “You know what they call us,” she asked, “down at the station?” 

 

He leaned over her. “What,” he kissed her forehead, “do,” he kissed her right cheek, “they,” he nibbled on her ear, “call,” he kissed her chin, “us?” He kissed her on the lips, long and deep. “Mmmmmm,” her soft contented purr sounded faintly, as her hands stroked his hair. When they finally broke apart, she smiled. “They call us ‘the old married couple’,” she laughed. “Is that right?” he questioned, although he knew that’s exactly how everyone at the precinct referred to them. (His secretary Ruby even said that to his face a few times, whenever she entered his office and found him on the phone with his wife, or happened to come upon them both together, “you guys are such an old married couple!”) “A lot they know!” He slid a hand slowly over her breasts and down her flat stomach. “You know what I say?” he continued in a low growl. “I say all those carbs you just fed me have given me a hell of a lot of energy I need to burn off.”

 

“Hungry for more, are you?” she teased, taking his hand and kissing his fingertips. 

 

“I dunno,” he growled in her ear, “I think I’m ready for a rich, sweet dessert.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So now we know how Precinct Captain David and Internal Affairs Chief Mary Margaret Blanchard got together, so next up is Chief Regina, and that dashing detective Robin. Who's more romantic than the Prince of.....detectives?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, nothing my mother would blush over, but I'm hoping the romance will make you sigh. Also, you can probably tell I know little about actual police protocol, so please forgive me for any mistakes in that department. And thank you to all who've taken the time to read this; I've gotten more hits on this story than any of my others.

Chief Regina Mills sat at her desk, reading through the paperwork on the Gold case that David had dropped by her office earlier in the morning. She wanted no mistakes, no little slip ups, nothing that would jeopardize the case, she told him in no uncertain words, and although David looked like he hadn't gotten enough sleep the previous night, he listened and agreed with her. She wanted Gold bagged and incarcerated as soon as possible—yesterday wouldn’t have been soon enough to suit her. She had worked long and hard during her career to become chief of this station, and she had accomplished it by making sure every loose end was tied up, every loophole closed, and every arrest ironclad. Every officer in the building would choose to face certain death rather than her wrath if she caught them messing up one of her cases.

She noted with satisfaction that Robin Locksley and his partner were the front men for the operation, Will Scarlet deep undercover and Robin his lifeline. She appreciated Robin’s cool, calm head in these matters, and knew that he was the best person on the force for exactly this type of investigation. He was strong, intelligent, had a sixth sense about things, and was in short the perfect counterpoint to the younger Scarlet, who at times tended to act like a cowboy at a showdown when a case exploded. And this case had the earmarks of a potential explosion that could shake the whole city. But Robin Locksley wasn’t just an excellent officer, she thought to herself, a slow smile spreading across her face as she thought of him. Oh no, he was much more than that to her. He was excellent, period.

 

Over a year ago, Regina had been alone so long, felt like it was ordained she should be alone, and if she didn’t like those feelings, well, she’d learned to live with them. David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard might have found eternal bliss with each other but Regina just couldn't believe it would ever happen to her. She was respected as one of the best precinct leaders in the city, her advice and counsel was sought after, and her station was the best there was. But even surrounded by her fellow officers, she was alone. That was, until the new guy had transferred to her precinct. When she first saw him stroll into the main office, in the perfectly tailored suit that rippled over his massive shoulders as he walked, and seemed to promise a strength underneath that made her stare, she was caught off guard with a heat that seemed to rumble up from her core like a volcano. Then he smiled, and she couldn’t look away. He stopped right in front of her, and she couldn’t believe how incredibly brilliant his eyes were. “Robin Locksley, reporting for duty, ma'am,” his voice was velvet gravel, and she suddenly wanted to do nothing more than listen to his voice, stare into his eyes, and be sheltered in his arms. 

 

Her reverie had been broken by Ruby Lucas, the Captain’s secretary, who always moved like a cat stalking through the precinct. Ruby had appeared at her side, holding out a file of paperwork to Regina, and pointedly ignoring the new guy.

 

Regina accepted the papers and Ruby turned on her very high heels and walked away, her cascade of hair shimmering from side to side. Regina was disappointed to see Robin’s cool blue eyes watching as Ruby’s ass bounced in her skin tight skirt as she disappeared. ‘Good luck with that,’ Regina thought as she waited for him to return to earth, ‘many have tried, most notably poor Jefferson, but nobody in this place has ever gotten the unattainable Ruby to go out with them.’ His attention returned to her, but her moment of lust was over. If Ruby was his type, he was welcome to waste his time pursuing her. Regina was resigned to being alone.

 

But as the weeks fell away, Robin seemed to find more and more excuses to come to Regina’s office, and she seemed to run into him every time she walked through the hallways of the building. He smiled, she was polite, he chatted, she nodded—but if he had struck out with Ruby, she certainly wasn’t going to be his second choice.

 

She was at her desk signing off on reports one day when he knocked and entered. He had left his suit jacket at his desk, and the tailored shirt he wore was a soft green, ‘like a sunlit forest glade,’ she thought abstractly. “Chief,” he approached her desk and held out a manila folder, “the report on the Clark Pharmacy robbery. Scarlet and I finished the paperwork, so I thought I’d bring everything to you personally.” 

 

As she reached for the folder, she looked up and felt herself fall deeply into those blue eyes. ‘Dammit!’ she thought as she took hold of the folder. But he didn’t release his grip, and instead used the file to pull her closer to him over her desk. “Tell me,” he asked, “are you ever not ‘the Chief?’ Are you ever Regina?” 

 

“What?” she realized she was breathing deeply, trying to fight the heat that had flared up in her the minute he’d walked in. 

 

“When you get off duty? Are you Regina then?” He had leaned forward, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Wh-why?” she faltered, inwardly cursing herself for sounding like a teenager.

 

“I just wondered,” he intoned, so close his eyes glowed, “if Regina might like to get something to eat with me tonight.” 

 

‘Never!’ she thought, ‘the nerve of him.’ 

 

“That might be nice,” she heard her voice coming from God knew where. His hand reached out and gently touched her cheek. “Great!” he smiled, and she wondered how anyone could have such a dazzling smile like that—it was downright criminal. “I’ll meet you after work!” And he was gone. She stood there, staring at the door, holding the papers in one hand, her other hand touching her cheek where his fingers had rested. 

 

She didn’t remember what she had to eat that night. Robin was charming, flirtatious while remaining a gentleman, displayed unfailing good manners, and held her hand everywhere they went. In short, Regina decided, he was everything she’d ever heard that a man should be, and not like any man she had ever met. They were strolling past the park near her apartment, and this time he had her hand in the crook of his arm, with his other hand resting over it. Neither had spoken during the last 10 minutes, and Regina felt so peaceful, so relaxed, so….happy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this incredibly happy. She leaned into his shoulder.

 

Robin slowed, and stopped when they came to a pool of light from the streetlamp. “You know,” he said as he turned to face her, “this can’t go on.” Regina’s eyes opened wide, but before she could respond, he continued, “I want more, and I need to know if you do too.” Regina smiled. “God,” he murmured, “you’re exquisite.” He tilted her chin up, and bent down to caress her lips with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he swept her off her feet, their kiss likening to molten lava. 

 

Much later that evening, she lay in his strong arms on her sofa, both of them watching the fire that crackled in her fireplace. “Do you know,” he murmured in her ear, “you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on? From the first moment I ever saw you, I wanted to take you in my arms, and hold you just like this.” Something clicked in Regina. “Really?” she asked, “the first time?” “Most definitely,” his breath tickled her neck. “That’s funny,” she continued, “because the first time you saw me, I got the definite impression you were more interested in watching Ruby Lucas sashay away from us back to the Captain’s office.” Robin jerked his head around to face her. “What?” he asked, confusion in his voice. 

 

Regina smiled. “It’s all right, but I distinctly remember how you couldn’t keep your eyes off her that first day when you introduced yourself to me.” 

 

Robin’s face grew serious, and he took her by the shoulders so he was staring directly into her eyes. “That was not the first time I ever laid eyes on you, my love.” Regina was baffled, and could not think of a thing to say. “The first time I ever saw you,” Robin continued, “was at a law enforcement symposium, two years ago.” His eyes shone as he remembered, “I saw you walking through the hall, and decided to follow you. I ended up in the main lecture room listening to your presentation on ‘The Importance of Society in the Reformation of First Time Juvenile Offenders’.” Regina’s hands rested on his bare chest, “You were there?” she whispered. 

 

Robin smiled. “I followed you because you were the most wondrous vision I’d ever seen. After I heard your speech, I knew you were that all-too-rare combination of exceeding beauty and abundant intelligence. You were concise, logical, confident, well-versed, and your ideas were backed up by irrefutable evidence. By the time you ended your presentation, you had everyone in the room ready to follow you to the ends of the earth to help kids with problems—I just wanted to follow you to the ends of the earth.” He sighed. “It took me a few seconds to learn your name, and almost two years to get a transfer into your station. It’s always been you, Regina.” 

 

His arms went around her again, and his lips sought her face, caressing her with soft kisses across her cheeks and down her neck. She leaned back on the sofa and pulled him down over her, never breaking their embrace.

 

Within three months, everyone at work knew it. They could see it in Regina’s face, her step, her every word. They could see it in Robin’s smile whenever she was near him, the sweet, sensuous look he got whenever she entered the room. There could have been 100 other souls surrounding them—a thousand, even—but those two only saw, heard, felt each other. It was like watching electricity spark and arc through the air, like the biggest Fourth of July fireworks display ever, like moonlight and music and magic swirling all around them at the same time. Regina may have wanted to keep it a secret, Robin may have desired some privacy, but the love that had grown between them was a fireball of force that everyone could sense. And no one at the station doubted for a second that it was anything other than absolute true love.

 

Regina regarded herself in the mirror. It had been almost a half a year since their first dinner. Her reflection showed her long black sheath dress with spaghetti straps, clinging to her lithe form. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders; she always wore it pinned up at work, but Robin loved it down, he loved to let it flow through his fingers. The doorbell rang and she smiled. He was always on time.

 

She caught her breath when she saw him standing there, one hand in his pocket, his dark suit immaculate, set off by his deep emerald tie. “Milady,” he kissed her hand then spun her slowly around. “Are you ready for a night of adventure?” he asked.

 

As they left the building, the doorman greeted her, “Ms. Mills, this is for you.” He handed her a single long stemmed red rose. She looked at Robin, who smiled inscrutably, and accepted the rose. They walked towards the corner where Robin’s car was parked, and a teenaged boy, whom she recognized as the son of a neighbor in her building, walked towards them. “Ma'am,” he grinned, a little bashful, and held out another rose. She looked at Robin again, but, eyes wide, he feigned ignorance. At the corner, she spotted Mr. Sands, who owned the little grocery there. He was smiling and holding a red rose too, and obviously waiting for her. 

 

Robin opened the car door for her, then moved around to the driver’s side, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine. There was a sharp rap at her window and she turned to see two more red roses floating at face level. She hit the button to lower the glass and heard a coarse voice. “Got any spare change, lady?” as the two roses dropped into her lap. A face popped down into view, and under the grime, stubble, and raggedy clothes, she recognized Will Scarlet, Robin’s undercover partner, leering like an idiot at her. “Take a shower,” her voice was sweet but threatening, and he jumped back as she closed the window. 

 

Robin navigated the car through the evening traffic, and Regina sat in comfortable silence, admiring her roses and him. She glanced over at him a time or two, always amazed at how strong his jaw was, yet how warm his smile looked and how soft his lips were. They pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and he hurried to open the door for her again. He slipped his arm around her waist as they walked in the front doors, and she was not surprised to see the maitre’d holding yet another rose, and beaming at her. They were quickly shown to their table, tucked in a corner with a view of the harbor stretching out from the bay window, the full moon reflecting on the water. A magnum of champagne was chilling in an ice bucket, and six more roses awaited her, making a perfect even dozen. “They’re beautiful,” she murmured, as she gathered them all in her arms to take in the fragrance. A waiter appeared out of nowhere with a vase for the flowers. Robin smiled, “They’re American Beauties, just like you.” 

 

Robin had ordered their meals before he arrived at her place; he’d chosen all her favorites, and they dined in an atmosphere of succulent dishes and the magical aroma of the roses. Their conversation came easy to them, they were like souls who had been born knowing each other. Finally, dessert was brought out and set before them. Her plate contained a small square box made of dark chocolate, with a strawberry topped with whipped cream decorating the lid on the top. “Be careful when you open it,” Robin advised, watching her closely. She slowly lifted the chocolate lid, and the overhead chandelier caught the brilliance of a sparkle inside it. Suddenly Regina caught her breath as Robin reached into the box and brought out a diamond, then slid out of his chair and down on one knee at her side. 

 

“Regina,” he began, holding the ring up to her, “I told you once that you are a rare combination of exceeding beauty and abundant intelligence. That is a modest description of you. I knew from that very first time I saw you I could not live without you. You took such total and complete possession of my heart and soul that I can only surrender them both to you forever, and ask you to be with me til the end of time. Will you, my dear, will you marry me?” 

 

Regina dashed away the tears that were forming in her eyes. “Yes, Robin, yes,” she murmured as she held her hand out. He slipped the diamond onto her finger, then kissed it. It was a perfect fit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've had the long-time married David and Mary Margaret, the newly engaged Robin and Regina, and now it's time for the romantic dance that's Emma and Killian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a few days to post this one; I did mention that I obsessively edit and re-edit, and it seemed like every time I was ready to post, I'd read through the chapter and find something else to change. ALSO, my original statement that this story does not contain descriptions of graphic sex still holds; however, this IS the Emma and Killian chapter, so I had to give them something. I think nothing really crosses the line that I've drawn for myself, and their time being intimate is vaguely described and mostly left up to your imaginations. If this chapter offends anyone, I do apologize.

“Killian!” Emma laughed, struggling to get away as he reached around and started tickling her. “No,” his voice rumbled from somewhere under the tangle of sheets and comforter, sounding like a menacing pirate, “you will never escape my clutches, not until you’ve paid the penalty.” She fell back onto the pillows. “I think we both paid the penalty about a dozen times last night,” she pointed out contentedly, settling back into his arms. His skin felt so good against hers, his stubble against her face, his lips caressing her, his fingers entwining with hers. 

 

“A mere dozen?” he murmured. “Then we’ll make it a dozen and one,” as he rolled her over on top of him, his lips never leaving her body. 

 

“We’re going to be late for work,” she chided, her hips straddling him, as he continued his journey over her warm skin, tracing his fingers up her sides to her breasts.

 

“We’re never late,” he whispered, “and you’re the boss, so you can’t be late anyway—tell them we were….conducting an investigation.” She giggled as his fingers splayed over her. “Pay my penalty, love, and we’ll get to the precinct—eventually.”

 

Laughter bubbled up inside her as his arms slid around her back, and her hands began straying slowly down, her fingernails drawing designs in the curls of hair on his chest. He gently rolled her over, his hands never leaving her. His tongue worshipped her, while his eyes slyly watched her. A soft sound escaped from her lips, not quite a groan, not quite a sigh, not quite a breath. It was the sound of lilting ecstasy.

 

Emma Swan had been promoted to chief of detectives a mere nine months ago, after Graham retired on a disability. She worked hard at her job, and she relished the opportunity to make her city a better place by tossing the bad guys behind bars. She had enjoyed a friendly rivalry over who would get the promotion with a fellow detective, Killian Jones. They’d worked side by side for a couple of years, but she had known he was involved with another woman, Milah something or other, so she respected his personal life. But work was something else.

 

In the detective division, the two of them were more than a match for each other, and held a fierce but friendly competition over everything—who arrested the most perps, who got the most convictions, who had a perfect score at the shooting range, whose paperwork received the most praise from Captain Nolan, who got the most nods from the chief. But she had known from the start the man had an almost animal magnetism, an allure that could easily pull her in like the undercurrent of a massive wave if she wasn’t careful. She wasn’t the type to break up a couple, she told herself over and over, and when Graham had made them partners, Emma was careful to be professional with every step she took.

 

So she was intrigued one morning to hear a whiff of gossip, that Killian’s and Milah’s relationship had disintegrated to nothingness, and she had gone running back to a former lover. ‘Her loss,’ Emma found herself thinking as she sat down that day and pulled up the previous night’s reports.

 

If Killian’s heart was crushed over the break up, he never let on. Instead, the partners seemed to fit together even more perfectly, if that was possible. Captain Nolan observed that they seemed to finish each other’s thoughts, ideas, hunches, jokes—like they were pulled together and connected by an invisible wavelength of magnetic power stronger than gravity, he told Mary Margaret one evening. “At lunch today,” he laughed, “they even finished each other’s lunches.” Mary Margaret had smiled at that. She had not become Chief of Internal Affairs by NOT knowing how to read the signs.

 

For his part, Killian flirted shamelessly with Emma, giving her a wink every time he caught her eye, letting his hand linger a bit long when he handed her anything, letting his hand rest on her chair when he passed by, slowly letting his tongue give a little flick to his lips when he caught her watching him instead of working. And she enjoyed it more with each passing day. 

 

Their attraction was no secret to the rest of the detectives in the squad; in fact, every time Ruby passed their desks, and she always seemed to find a reason to do so, she would wait til she was right next them, and then hiss, “get a room,” in a stage whisper that left everyone around them grinning. At first Emma had been embarrassed when ‘the unattainable’ Ruby had judged them both like that, but she couldn’t be embarrassed for too long around Killian, he was just too hot to ignore the heat. ‘Maybe a room was a good idea,’ she thought one afternoon as she watched him head out the door in his leather jacket and tight jeans, his holstered weapon bulging underneath. The thought brought a warmth to her face and she ducked her head hurriedly so no one would see the rosy blush she knew was there. 

 

“Hey, Swan,” he’d called to her late one Friday night, “The guys are all going to Harrigan’s, you coming?” His casual invitation seemed off the cuff, but she saw the twinkle in those azure eyes as he grinned at her. “You buyin’?” she shot back. His dimples deepened. “I’ll play you for it,” he challenged. “Play what?” She stepped closer to him, and caught the faint aroma of sandlewood and bayberry and…the sea? Whatever it was, she thought, distracted, it was intoxicating. 

 

“Darts, of course,” his voice hummed as he stepped closer to her, his voice quiet in her ear, “you know how to throw a dart, don’t you? You just caress it in your fingers, breathe, relax, aim, and release.” He reached out and stroked her fingers with his, just a touch, and it seemed to electrify her.

 

Emma steadied herself. ‘How could a man make a game of darts sound so damn sexy?’ she thought. Suddenly she realized he was looking at her, waiting for an answer. “Of—of course,” she tried to sound nonchalant, “I know how to play darts.” 

 

“Well then, lass,” he purred, the brogue of his ancestors creeping into his voice, “loser gets the bill.” “Really?” Emma returned, “and what does the winner get?” “Oh, we’ll just have to see about that,” he laughed as he led her out of the station.

 

Harrigan’s was just down the block and across the street from the station, a family-owned pub where all the cops seemed to congregate after hours, for a beer, a game or two of darts or billiards, and a few laughs. The place was full when Emma and Killian arrived, and they waved to David and Mary Margaret, who occupied a table. “I see the boss is forgoing a quiet evening at home,” Killian remarked as they acknowledged David’s greeting and Mary Margaret’s knowing smile. “Even the Captain and his wife get to let their hair down once in a while,” Emma replied as they grabbed two empty stools at the end of the bar. “Must be pretty boring, to be settled down like that,” Killian mused, signaling the bartender for two beers. “I dunno,” Emma shrugged off her jacket, “must be pretty special to want to settle down with one person.” She gave Killian a playful shove on the shoulder. “It’s called true love,” she chided him. “I’m sure you’ve never heard of it. It’s when two hearts--” She stopped suddenly, remembering his Milah, and her hands were grateful to grasp the mug of beer now in front of her. 

 

“Two hearts,” he prompted her. She took a long drink. “Two hearts,” she continued, peeking at him out of the corner of her eye, “that feel so entwined they can’t function without each other. They become as one living, breathing, pulsing glow, and when they unite,” she was conscious of a warmth that wasn’t caused by the beer, “they unite forever, in a passion that burns away everything unneeded and meaningless, leaving only the beauty of their souls.” She took a deep breath—how did she get into this conversation anyway? “At least,” she finished lamely, “that’s what my Granny always used to tell me.”

 

He reached over and hooked one finger under her chin, and gently turned her face to his. His eyes now seemed a royal navy blue, sparkling from the lights overhead like diamonds illuminated by stars over the sea. “Sounds intriguing,” his tongue touched his lower lip, “maybe someday we’ll each find it.”

 

For one single, and, the thought flickered through Emma’s mind, glorious moment, they were both frozen in time, face to face, his eyes diving deeply into hers, as the noise around them faded to a distant hum. She could hear her own heart beating against her ribs, and was sure she could hear his also, the steady thumping echoing together in a harmony that called out to her unlike any mere words ever could. Emma took a deep breath and pulled herself to the surface. “So,” she said, “darts.” Killian’s smile seemed to turn the glow of a light on somewhere inside her. “Yes, love,” he agreed, darts.”

 

Harrigan’s knew how popular the game was, so there were a half-dozen dartboards set along the walls, and Killian and Emma carried their beer over to an open board. He grabbed a dart, and turned to her, offering it to her and bowing slightly. She took it from him, and rolled it in her fingers, stepping up to the line as he watched. Whether from newfound nerves or the magnitude of his closeness that suddenly enveloped her senses, she missed the entire board when she let the dart fly.

 

“Here,” he purred, and handed her another dart, then stepped behind her. One hand lightly grasped her left upper arm, the other wrapped around her right arm to reach her throwing hand, curling his fingers around hers as she caressed the dart. “Let the dart become part of your arm, Swan,” his voice, though soft at her ear, was the only sound she could hear in the raucous din of the bar. “Let your energy flow, from your brain,” his warm breath danced on her neck, “into your arm and through your fingers, then breathe,” she slowly inhaled, catching the sea scent again, “relax,” she felt a calmness in resting against his chest, “aim,” she sighted down her arm as it was entwined with his, “and release.” The dart traveled as if by magic on a true course straight to the bullseye. 

 

A week after that game of darts, they both sat working furiously at their desks. She had won that contest, although she wondered later if he had let her emerge victorious. Afterwards, he had paid their bar tab, gave her a light kiss on the cheek, his lips brushing against her soft skin, then bid her goodnight, disappearing into the darkness.

 

It had been a particularly grueling day out in the neighborhood; they’d finally nailed the creep who had been luring children out of the playgrounds. It was a good, clean arrest, they’d caught him redhanded. Now they were both stuck at the station finishing reports long after everyone else had gone home. The frantic clicking of their computer keyboards was the only noise, until finally Killian hit ‘send’ and shut down his screen. “Done! I beat you this time, Swan,” he commented, as he rose from his chair, pushed his arms above his head and arched his back in a deep stretch. Emma glowered as she typed; the fact that she was in charge of the division and therefore always had the most paperwork never made a difference in his gloating.

 

“So,” he sauntered over and stood behind her, hands comfortably on her shoulders, watching her type furiously, “need any help?” Her index finger stabbed the enter button, and she turned off her computer and jumped up. “No help needed!” She gave him a triumphant look.

 

“But I did finish before you,” Killian’s voice was like a big feral cat purring, low and rumbling, “so there’s a penalty owed here.” Emma grinned; she knew all about his penalties. “Don’t tell me, we’re going to Harrigan’s again, and I have to buy.” She grabbed her red jacket and purse from her drawer.

 

“Not this time,” Killian reached to help her with her jacket. “I thought this time you might like to try Luigi’s, over by the bay.” Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “Luigi’s?” she questioned, “Really? The place with the killer lasagna and the dim lighting?” She immediately felt silly at her awkward description of one of the nicest places in town. It was, she remembered, where Robin and Regina had gotten officially engaged.

 

“That’s the one,” he smiled. “I thought we needed a change of pace this time. And,” he flashed his devastating smile as he lightly placed his hand on the small of her back to escort her to the door, “I’m buying.” 

 

If she had thought he was flirting before, it was nothing compared to sitting there across from him at Luigi’s. He had a habit of tilting his head downward just a bit, then raising his eyes to look at her, a little smirk of a smile forming on his face while he ran the tip of his tongue along his upper lip. She found herself wondering just what that lip tasted like. ‘Sweet,’ she decided as she watched him, ‘with a little spice, or maybe—yes, sea salt.’

 

“You know, love,” he said later as their finished their food, “after a meal like this, I think I’d like a little dessert, something soft, creamy—“ his eyes flicked over her face slyly. “Really,” she asked, although his meaning was quite clear, “and just where might we find this dessert?” “Well,” he tried to attain an air of innocence, but she wasn’t buying it, “you’ve never seen my place before, and I was thinking maybe you’d like to try a Killian Special.” Her grin was irresistable, and he returned the smile.

 

“A Killian Special?” she asked, pretty sure where this was headed but determined to let it play out, “Named after anyone I know?” There was that tilted head look again. “Perhaps, Swan, perhaps.”

 

“So just what’s in this ‘Special’?” she asked, her eyes twinkling in the dim light of the restaurant.

 

“Killian Special,” he reminded her, “and I think you’ll enjoy it, love,” his hand curled around the side of his face, his eyes never leaving hers, “it’s just an after dinner delight, a little mix of hazelnut and kahlua liqueur, a little Irish cream, crème de menthe and dark crème de caco, and…a generous splash of rum.”

 

“Rum? Sounds like a pirate drink,” she mused, taking a sip of her water and returning his look over the rim of her glass.

 

“So are you up for a little pirating?”

 

She set her glass down on the table and leaned towards him conspiratorially, “Just remember,” her voice was low while her eyes twinkled in the candlelight, “I don’t pillage on the first date.”

 

Being with Killian, Emma decided the next morning as she awoke curled tightly into his side, was like playing with fire, and reveling in the burn. The man sizzled, and she was like drops of water that hissed and steamed when their bodies met. He knew instinctively how and where to touch her to send her spiraling higher and higher in delight, until she collapsed on him, or he on her. He used his tongue like an artist’s brush against her lips, her neck, and everywhere else. And he was gentleman enough to let her equally pour her lust out over him, as she teased and coaxed, bringing groans of exquisite pleasure from his lips. And yes, the taste of sea salt somehow did linger on his lips, although why Emma could not for the life of her discern. They moved in together within the month, and they didn’t care who knew it at the precinct, who talked about it, who teased them about it, or who, like Mary Margaret, just kept giving them her inscrutable, knowing smile every time she saw them together.

 

“God, woman, a dozen and one penalties, I don’t think I can even get out of bed, let alone go to work,” Killian rasped as he fell back on the sheets, exhausted, “you wear me out.” Emma watched him. “Does that mean you don’t want to go again?” She asked. “Did I pay all your penalties?” 

 

Killian traced a finger over her lips, “And then some,” he admitted. “Well then,” she jumped up and grabbed her jeans. “You better get a move on, or else I’m going to beat you to work today.” Pulling her jeans over her legs, she threw a sly look over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. “And you know what that means, tonight I get to be the one extracting the penalties!” Killian groaned; who could possibly even think about something as mundane as work after a glorious, magical morning like this?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the morning report at the precinct house. Again, no graphic sex, just love and police work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, so I will also post another one tonight if I get the chance.

“So where are we with the Gold investigation?” David asked the assembled officers in front of him. It was their regular, start-of-shift morning meeting, and everyone was in attendance. Robin sat discreetly next the chief, who always made it a point to attend. Mary Margaret sat in the front row, beaming unabashedly at her husband. She had just warned everyone that she wanted no IA investigations to come up because of Gold. Everything would be done strictly by the book. Killian and Emma sat next to each other and tried to pay attention, although Killian kept slowly rubbing gentle but insistent circles on the inside of her palm with his forefinger. Ruby sat along the side, her short skirt revealing a little too much as she bounced one knee over the other and held her pad, taking notes at a rapid pace while her boss talked. She might be unattainable but she made sure people enjoyed the view. In the shadows near the back door, Will slouched against a wall, looking more like a derelict than ever before. He had already handed in his report to Emma, who now stood to answer David’s question.

 

“Gold is holed up on Lexington, in a warehouse that he’s converted into living quarters. He always has armed goons with him for protection. His new lab seems to be under construction in the basement, and trucks are making deliveries every night.” David skimmed the folder he held while Emma spoke, nodding his head as she laid out the details. David looked out at those assembled. “As soon as we get clearance on this we are going to move, so everyone needs to keep on their toes. I want Gold and his drug business shut down for good, and I want the arrest to stick—no sloppy work, people.” He stepped down from the podium signaling the end of the meeting, and the officers stood up. David approached Regina to continue the conversation about Gold, while Robin gave them their space.

 

Instead, he looked around, then walked quickly to the back of the room for a one-on-one with his partner, Will. “Listen, wild man,” Robin put his hand around the back of Will’s neck to make sure the younger man was listening to him, “you watch, you listen, but you lay low. This isn’t the wild west, Gold’s a dangerous man. If you see anything, anything that looks like we’re gonna lose him, you call it in, you got it?” Will grinned, “Geez, Rob, it sounds like you don’t trust me out there. I’m fine, I know my job.” “Yeah, well, your job is to keep your ass out of a sling, you hear me?” “Roger that,” Will smirked. He slid out of Robin’s grasp, tossed his partner a quick salute, and headed for the back door.

 

Robin looked back at Regina, and saw she was still talking privately to David. He instead headed to Emma and Killian, not wanting to intrude on Chief’s conversation with the Captain. As he passed Ruby, he heard Jefferson, an older detective on the squad, wheedling her, “gimme one good reason, Ru, just one—just one drink at Harrigan’s after work—“ If Jeff didn’t freeze outright from the brief look Ruby shot him, Robin noted, her next comment pretty much tossed him right into the side of the iceberg. “Oh, Jefferson, dear,” Ruby gazed briefly at him, her long crimson nails lightly tapping her notepad, “you need to quit while you’re behind.” Ruby glided away, Jeff stood looking pitiful, and Robin tried his best not to laugh out loud. Score another one for the unattainable.

 

“Did you talk to Will?” Emma asked Robin as he joined her and Killian. “I told him,” he nodded grimly, “in no uncertain terms, that his job is to keep us informed, not go running in like a maniac. I told him that he’d better damn well call in the instant he thought there was a chance we might lose Gold. But you know Will.” “I still say,” Killian repeated, “the kid needs to get laid. It would definitely calm him down and take some of his cowboy edge off.” Emma shot him a glance, “Really? Is that what keeps you so calm?” she tried to sound innocent. Robin fought a laugh, but Killian was adamant, “Robin, maybe you and I need to take him out and be his wingmen.” “Oh sure,” Emma scoffed, “turn the three of you loose on an unsuspecting population of innocent ladies.” Robin lost his fight and laughed out loud. “Don’t worry, love,” Killian grinned slyly at Emma, “we’d find him someone who wouldn’t pillage on a first date.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next to the last chapter, and finally we're getting down to the action scenes. Will the good guys win? Will they live to fight another day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two short chapters today, and one more to go. I'm sure you have figured out the ending, but I appreciate you sticking with me to the end.

Emma slammed the phone down, and jumped up. “That was Locksley, he just heard from Scarlet who said Gold is starting to pack up the operation. If we don’t move now, we might lose him.” David strode in from his office, holding paperwork that Ruby had just handed him. “I have the search warrants, the judge just signed off on them.” Killian checked his sidearm and slid it into his shoulder holster. “I just called it in to the patrol cars, they’re headed that way.” Emma hit the door first, and the others ran out behind her. 

 

Gunfire was pouring from the building into the street and the alley when Emma and Killian rolled up. There were uniformed officers on the opposite side of the street, with cruisers blocking any escape routes. Emma spotted Robin, who dodged over to her while Killian joined them, sheltered behind her car. “Gold was coming out the door when we rolled up, and his goons started shooting. Gold jumped back into the building, but we’ve got them pinned down—he had 3 guys with him, and there’s another 2 on the roof,” Robin reported. We’ve blocked off every escape route, but they’re not giving up. We’ve also moved civilians back and evacuated as many as possible.” Emma glanced around at the chaos. There were uniforms everywhere, returning fire while protecting themselves. But there was one officer she didn’t spot. “Where’s Scarlet?” She asked pointedly. Robin pointed to the side of the building. “He went into the alley, near the custodian’s basement exit door, trying to pick off the shooters on the roof from that side. He’s okay.” 

 

“Get him out of there, now!” she commanded. “Killian, you’re with me.” They ran into the fray, to relieve the on-scene uniformed officer in command, dodging bullets as they went. Robin headed towards the alley.

 

Will crouched in a narrow doorway, while two gunmen overhead poured bullets down around him. He watched warily, getting a shot off when he could. “Will!” he jerked around at the sound of his name over the thunder of gunfire, and spotted his partner Robin dodging towards him. “Watch out!” Will yelled, as Robin slid behind a dumpster across from the doorway and a few yards back, his firearm in his hand. 

 

The battle continued, until suddenly one of the rooftop shooters screamed and plunged over the side of the building, hitting the pavement below. Will glanced back at his partner with a grin, knowing that later they would argue about which one of them had brought the guy down. Then he saw the shadow coming quietly up behind Robin. One of Gold’s goons must have slipped out the basement window near the corner of the building without anyone noticing him. Will tensed as he saw the man’s arm rise, taking deliberate aim at Robin. “Rob! Behind you!” Will shouted, and launched himself up and out of the doorway, to get a clear shot, just as the shadow pulled the trigger.

 

Robin spun back quickly as the sound of gunfire exploded all around him. He saw the thug behind him fall heavily, and he looked towards Will. ‘He owed his young partner big time for that one,’ he thought in relief. But Will was not safely behind the custodian’s door anymore, Robin realized with a shock. Will was crumpled in the alley trash and debris on the asphalt. 

 

Panic and rage boiled up in Robin, as the second man on the rooftop kept firing, effectively pinning him down. Robin tried to calm his fury and held his fire, hoping to lure the shooter into thinking he’d gotten both cops, and after a moment, he saw the man peer cautiously over the edge of the roof. Taking careful aim, Robin fired with the accuracy of a marksman, and the man fell backwards and disappeared. Robin ran across the alley and was next to an unconscious Will in a flash, rolling him on his back. When his dirty jacket fell open, a red streak showed through Will’s shirt, and Robin cursed. ‘How many times had they all warned his partner to wear the damned protective vest,’ Robin raged silently. Robin ripped open the shirt to uncover a small ugly hole in Will’s right side under his ribcage, steadily pumping out blood with each beat of his heart.

 

The gunfire had subsided as Emma’s voice echoed down the alley way. “Locksley!” she called. “Here!” Robin shouted back, “Man down! We need an ambulance!” Emma sprinted the length of the alleyway and skidded to a stop opposite Robin. She knelt down next to Will and quickly shoved the heel of her hand into his wound to try to slow down the bleeding. Will groaned and opened his eyes. “Hey boss?” he asked faintly, eyeing Emma, “did we win?” “Yeah,” she answered calmly, “we won. But I’m going to kick your ass for not having your body armor on.” Will tried to move but Robin held him down by the shoulders. “Damn,” Will gasped, as Emma increased pressure. “You’re not the only one,” he muttered faintly, “she’s gonna kick my ass too.” His eyes rolled back and he was limp. Emma looked at Robin, who quickly checked his partner for a pulse as he said a silent prayer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter-does Will Scarlet survive the shoot out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to again thank everyone who read my story, and especially those who left reviews! I've even had some nice PMs asking for more on each couple, so maybe in the future I will have a go at that. But for now, this has been a great experience--my first multi-chapter fan fic.

Robin desperately probed Will's neck, searching for the throb that would indicate Will's heart was still beating. Each second seemed like an eternity as Robin tried to find pulse—he had to be alive, he just had to. It was a tense moment until, "Still with us," Robin affirmed, letting out a sigh and rocking back on his heels. He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. Killian dashed down the alley to join them. "The ambulance is on its way, it should be here any minute." Emma continued to staunch the flow of blood, Robin cradled Will's head, and Killian kept a watchful eye for the medics. The three kept their guard over Will until the wail of the siren announced that help had arrived.

Within the hour, the chief had joined the captain and the knot of detectives in the hospital waiting room, and Regina was fuming. "Haven't you told him that there is absolutely no leeway on this?" Regina growled at David as her finger shook fiercely in his face. Standing next to her captain, Emma interjected, "After Graham was fingered and almost killed last year trying to infiltrate the stolen truck ring because they spotted his armored vest on him, Will just refused to wear one on the street." Emma glanced at her hands; they were still bloody. "He didn't want to blow his cover."

Regina glared at her detective sergeant; she looked almost as if she could throw fireballs at them all. David held up his hands. "Look, Chief, let's just all take a breath, okay? " Robin reached for Regina's hand. "He's right," Robin told her, the strength in his voice trying to push down the fear in his gut, "You can bust Scarlet down to school crossing guard after he gets out of the hospital, but for now let's focus on staying calm and positive here." He wanted to take her in his arms, but it was enough for now to just let the warmth of his hand surround hers.

Emma turned away from the group, and Killian followed her. "Are you okay, love?" he asked, touching her shoulder. She mutely held out her bloody hands. "It cannot end like this," she muttered. "It won't," he assured her, "it won't. You know Scarlet. He'll be up and about and bragging for weeks to come about how he brought Gold down singlehanded. And," he lifted her chin gently with his finger, "we got Gold, and enough evidence to send him away for a long time." He reached over to a table and pulled out a tissue from a box sitting there, and started to wipe away the crimson from her hands.

The hours dragged by, until finally the door to the OR swung open, and a doctor clad in scrubs emerged, pulling his surgical mask down from his face. "You're all waiting for Officer Scarlet, right? He's out of surgery and being taken to recovery. We removed the bullet and repaired the damage, he should be fine." Emma took a slow and calming breath. She wouldn't lose a man today. "When can we see him?" Robin asked. "In a few hours," the doctor replied, "we'll be moving him to a room very soon."

Later that night, Emma, Killian, Robin, Regina and David were crowded into Will's hospital room. The doctor had grudgingly let them all go in, after warning them not to overtax his patient. Regina had decided to let her chain of command take care of any reprimand Will needed. David held his criticism to a minimum, deciding he would wait until Will returned to duty to chew him out for his breech of department directives. He'd called Mary Margaret to tell her the news, and she had counseled him to not be too hard on the young cop; she felt his brush with death would be an object lesson for him in his future police work.

Robin, who always felt protective of his younger partner, beamed over the fact that Will was still alive. He was torn between relief that Will had survived, and wanting to pummel him for scaring them all like that. One look at Killian told Robin that his fellow detective would be glad to help Robin with that pummeling. Emma tried to act disgruntled, and she kept trying to look sternly at the patient. But it was hard when she remembered how she had tried so hard to keep him from bleeding to death in the alley earlier that same day.

Propped up on pillows, with monitors attached to him and machines beeping readouts of his vital signs, Will was weak but smiling, and when the captain asked him how he really felt, he grinned and replied, "I'm fine." "Oh sure," Emma was sarcastic, "you give us all heart attacks, but you're fine." Will grimaced, "I'm sorry about that, and I know you guys all warned me. But honest, I'm fine, I really am."

In the hallway at that moment, they heard a woman's angry voice call, "where the hell is he?" They looked up as the door to Will's room flew open and Ruby Lucas stalked in, her stiletto heels pounding a furious beat on the tile floor, her lipstick a vivid red, her hair flowing wildly like a storm cloud, her dress hugging her body tightly and almost covering everything, and fire raging in her eyes. Will quailed at the sight of her, and muttered, "uhm, maybe not as fine as I thought…"

"Will Scarlet!" Her voice dripping with ice and fury, Ruby came right up to his bedside, hands on her hips, one toe continuing a staccato rhythm on the tile. The other officers stood there staring, unable to say a word among them. Ruby ignored them all; her eyes were like daggers aimed at the injured man.

"Hullo, Red," Will seemed to shrink away from her, even though he was prone in the hospital bed.

"What the hell did I tell you about getting shot?" she demanded, not acknowledging his greeting.

Will glanced around the room at his fellow officers, but they were no help at all. David knew better than to get in the path of a furious Ruby. Regina was disdainful, Emma was watching in amazement, and Robin was struggling to comprehend what he saw. But Killian had the beginning of a smirk on his lips—he had a thought as to where this all was headed. Will looked back at Ruby and paled a little, "uhm…to not to?" he said tentatively. "Exactly." Her voice lowered ominously. "And yet here you are."

"Uhhh…" Will floundered for words, while the others watched, transfixed. Ruby towered over him, and sparks seemed to snap through the air around her. None of them had ever seen the chief's secretary lose her cool like this—ever. "I'm…sorry?" Will finished lamely.

"And I'm going to kick your sorry skinny ass." Ruby fumed, her voice more of a wolf-like growl from deep in the back of her throat.

"Wait a minute," Emma suddenly remembered. "He was talking about you!" Every head turned to her. "In the alley," Emma continued, "when we were waiting for the ambulance, Will, I told you I was going to kick your ass for getting shot, and you said, 'she's gonna kick my ass too.' You were talking about Ruby?" As if on cue, they all looked back at Ruby.

Her face softening a bit, Ruby gazed down at Will. "You were thinking about me while you were laying there shot in that filthy alley, possibly dying?" she asked.

Will stared at her. "Well, of course I was, woman. Who d' you think would be on my mind when I might have been taking my very last breath? Who'd you think is always on my mind, night or day, anytime, anywhere, no matter what I'm doin' or who else is around me?" This seemed to stop Ruby completely, so Will took a steadying breath and plunged on, "Who'd you think has dug into my heart and soul so deep I can't ever let her go—and don't ever want to let her go?"

It seemed as if the very atmosphere in the room paused, as if everyone was frozen in tableau, but Ruby was oblivious to it all. She bent down over him, so low her cleavage threatened to escape her top, put her well-manicured hands on either side of Will's face to stroke his cheeks, sealed her mouth over his, and kissed him, her tongue delving into his mouth. Will's hands, encumbered by the IV and monitors, could only grasp tightly at the bed sheets. Regina and the captain stared, Emma was wide-eyed, and Robin and Killian were grinning like Cheshire cats. The machine monitoring Will's heartbeat seemed to increase its rhythm. When Ruby finally released him and came up for air, she stroked his spiky hair from his forehead down to the nape of his neck, then slowly ran a long red fingernail gently over the top of his ear, across his cheek, along his lower lip, and down past his chin to his chest, stopping directly over his heart. "I'm going to go find out when I can take you home, baby, and give you the care you deserve," she purred, and marched out the door. Will lay there limp, and shuddered, gasping for air.

"Oh, I do feel sorry for your doctor," Robin mentioned with a chuckle, watching her go. The captain was shaking his head. "You—and Ruby?" Will grinned and nodded, his ears turning pink. "But she was always so…." David hesitated. "Unattainable?" Emma finished. "Yes!" David agreed. "She never let on that she was…" he hands waved in the air, "…involved…with anyone, and she refused every officer who asked her out," he looked at his detectives, who were now all grinning broadly. Robin cuffed his partner lightly on the shoulder. "You and Ruby," he said, with more than a little pride. Will tried to look modest, but the pink from his ears was spreading. "How long…" Robin prompted.

"Well," Will started, "she wanted to keep it a secret, 'cause she didn't want anyone to know our business." He nodded towards Emma and Killian. "She saw how we all gave you guys grief when you hooked up and then moved in together," he next glanced at Robin and Regina, "and when you two got engaged, well, Ruby said she wanted us so low that we were invisible." He glanced at the door. "In fact, I'm surprised that she blew our cover just now like that."

"Wait a minute," Killian suddenly realized something, "Are you two living together?" All heads swiveled back to Will, whose face quickly turned from pink to red. Killian grinned broadly, "Maybe the question should be 'how long have you two been living together?'"

"Uhm…." Will fumbled, "almost….a year?" His face was now a burning magenta. "A year?!" Emma exploded, her voice incredulous. "Really? You guys kept this a secret for a year?" Robin could not contain his laughter any longer, and he reached down to gingerly pat his partner on the shoulder. "Way to go," he congratulated him, "Maybe you two will beat Regina and me to the altar!" "Hey," David added, also smiling, "marriage is the absolute best when you have true love."

"Actually, from what we all just witnessed," Killian snarked, pleased that now the precinct would have something else besides himself and Emma to gossip about, "it sounds like Ruby has really got you whipped."

"Weeeell," Will grinned at them all, "seein' how it's Red, I don't think I mind—nope, don't mind a bit."


End file.
